Rose Petal Is & Therese of the little Flower do you hear me?: poetry by Stephanie Lynn Hilpert

I have blue ocean eyes and white winter skin-
Soulless landscapes and silent windows to peer
from-night hair and rose petal lips- Distant
traffic sounding from distant streets-
——————- The Stars are breathing
solitude and space-the sparkling beasts circle
the wild atmosphere- Wild animals in the deep-
wilderness of the night are watching us
in the darkness like cat eyes- A flower is
motionless art moving that imitates the
wind and heart of season – A passing wish
and dying bee with no more honey-
Breathe me deep into your dark belly-where
I can swim-where I can pray- ponder- dark and deep
upon the she moon- Remembering the bitter sun and shaman-
dirt beneath my sky-less body, melting skin and hawk soul-
I’ve been running Godless towards God on feet that are bare
and blistered-still I run upon these bloody feet-
They carry my Godless soul into his arms,
Understand, I’m here alone-a withered old branch
dancing in the invisible wind. Understand,
I’m here alone-among the other outcasts –
mangled branches- I dangle alone.
Understand that this mouth that speaks these words
that seem invisible like the wind-is mine,
so dance the dance of will-understand the drum.
This solitude unwinds like a giant string-most likely
wrapping itself around my unborn child-
I’ve run so far into the mouth of God that
I’ve been swallowed whole enough to be alone with that
face in the moon again-eye to eye his oppressive stare
invading my space. I could consider his stare erotic,
or just rude. He watches me like I’m his prey.
I expect to see his giant tongue protrude violently forth.
It will consume me in this raw deep penetrating night
that covers the land in layers of dark-dark like my mood.
Rushing sea of distant crosses and God-rescue my mood
from the absence of the sun. All I have is this cat
on my lap to comfort my spiritless mood from the raw night
and its sharp teeth biting at my soul. Over the stars
I see-far with a vision of a blue night folding a shimmer into eternity.
Rose petals float with the air as if twins in spirit.
The air is the rose petal, is the rose petal, is the air.

© 2013 by Stephanie Lynn Hilpert
all rights reserved

Therese of the little Flower do you hear me?

I don’t always write rose petal words
in the face of adversity.

Friends turn their back when I say one wrong word.
Shadows appear like the face of Satan. I seem

to get along with the shadows better than
people. They silently spread rose petals across

the paper making it a pretty season of love.
Can you smell the roses? Who needs people

when you have the rose of a poem? Silence
emerged only to become my soul. Will

you set me free? I’m ready to die now
in your presence. Silence you’re too strong now

for the Goddess. Will you set me free? Silence is
the moth and I am the cloth.


I am not a human anymore. I’m debris on the edge
of silence. Wipe me clean.

People are swine to me-
Men are swine-
I hear you like swine-
The face of a swine-
It is here; I see the light and am smitten
by the tail of the beast-
There is nothing, but madness-
Ancestors to die for now. Who would love me?

Where is God in my moment of prayer?
Therese of the little Flower, do you hear me?


© 2013 by Stephanie Lynn Hilpert
all rights reserved


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